


"Guess this means I can drop the accent now"

by pawnofkings



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: British English, British Neil Josten, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, british accent neil josten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:55:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26479834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pawnofkings/pseuds/pawnofkings
Summary: anon on tumblr: immediately after the championship game, Neil realizes he’s safe and he gives a little quiet smile and says to Andrew “guess this means I can drop the accent now” with a British accent
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 35
Kudos: 575





	"Guess this means I can drop the accent now"

**Author's Note:**

> This morning, I saw a tumblr post where an anon had sent a message to agapantoblu on tumblr detailing this exact scenario and I couldn't not write it. Full credit for the premise to that person - if you want credit, let me know your user!
> 
> The post can be found at: https://agapantoblu.tumblr.com/post/180272501533/i-am-picturing-a-scene-that-takes-place-almost

It’s over. Not just the game against the Ravens, but Riko’s endless attempts to hurt him and the other Foxes, to coerce Kevin into rejoining the Ravens, to destroy all their lives; his father’s desperate hunt; the Moriyamas’ interest in his premature death. Neil’s among very few people who know that first part, though, so he can’t say anything about it yet. Later this evening, or perhaps come morning, news will break of Riko’s so-called suicide, and he’ll pretend to be shocked (but not too shocked - that’d be even more suspicious to those that know him) and tell Andrew the truth maybe tonight or tomorrow. Kevin, too. He doesn’t think anyone else needs to know.

He’s no longer bound by anything except his promise to the Moriyamas, by a promise to continue doing what he’d already been willing to die doing. He can’t believe his luck.

“Holy shit”, Nicky says, not for the first time.

They’re sitting in a lounge just outside the away team’s locker room, not yet out of Evermore, silent and contemplative. People might expect them to be celebrating, but the one feeling that seems to be permeating the room is overwhelmed, heady relief. Relief not unlike waking up from a nightmare.

Dan seems to be trying to wrestle the massive grin off her face, to no avail, and Matt hasn’t unearthed from his position with his face hidden in her neck, holding on tightly. Kevin has never looked paler, the black queen on his cheekbone standing out in sharp relief, but he’s clutching at their trophy like it’s his only tether to this world. To him, this victory is probably bittersweet; Neil doesn’t want to imagine how he’ll react to the news of Riko’s passing. 

He decides not to. It’s supposed to be a happy occasion. 

He stretches his legs out further, which pulls him further down on the couch; he’s slumped over and drowning in the cushions, toes poking at the coffee table in the middle of the square of black couches. He’s surrounded by teammates. If he turns his eyes to his right, he’ll see Andrew, solid and unmoving. He knows this couldn’t have been accomplished without any one of them.

His Foxes. His  _ friends _ . One day, he might call them family. 

These people know more about him than any other person. Andrew probably knows more about him than his mother ever cared to learn over the course of eighteen years; the good, the bad, and the ugly. Random thoughts and interests that don’t increase his chances of survival. Those little things the upperclassmen collect like shiny rocks.

There’s one thing they don’t know, though.

He turns his head so that his cheek presses against the couch cushion, facing Andrew. The man notices him looking and returns the gaze, expression neutral (not blank, it’s less and less blank, just… Calm. Settled. It’s better).

He thinks he’s ready to be himself. Not Neil Josten, the kid from Millport, Arizona, but Neil Josten, starting striker for the PSU Foxes, the kid with an unfortunate past. He’s ready to acknowledge that he has lived through the things he’s lived through. He’s okay with integrating that part of him. He’s  _ safe _ , after all, and for once he might believe it.

With a small smile on his lips, he goes: “Guess this means I can drop the accent now.”

The silence goes from being an absence of sound to being suffocating in and of itself. Then, it bursts with a loud “WHAT THE HELL?” from Nicky.

“Wh- wha-  _ huh _ ?” Matt asks, wide-eyed, having jumped up so fast it looks like he clipped Dan in the chin. She’s rubbing it now, but her grin has gone from hysterical to … Neil isn’t sure he can place it.

Andrew, though. The man’s eyes have widened, and not just a fraction. This is the most dramatic expression Neil’s seen on him since the meds, and Neil can’t help but stare.

“Excuse me, Neil, you what?” Allison calls.

“I’m not actually from the Southwest, you know”, he says. The British accent feels at once unfamiliar and natural in his mouth.

“Last I checked, you’re from Baltimore, junkie”, Andrew says. It looks like he’s hardly breathing.

Neil shrugs. “I spent most of my life with limited interaction with anyone except my mom, who was British”, he explains, “and I lived in Europe for several years. This is what I actually sound like.”

“Oh my God”, Matt whines, leaning into Dan’s side. “I can’t do this. Listen to him”, he stage-whispers to Dan. She giggles and nods.

“So this is what I’ll be subjected to from now on?” Andrew asks.

Neil grins. Andrew isn’t a very good liar. “I could always go back to American Standard.”

“NO!” Nicky protests. 

“No, this is good”, Allison says with a smirk. “Trust me.”

Kevin is looking at him like he’s got two heads. “This is - you didn’t sound like this at tryouts?”

Neil nods. “It got stronger after we ran. I’d only talk to my mom for months on end, sometimes, so… And I hid it back then, too. Blending in, and all that.”

Andrew shakes his head, huffs in disbelief. He murmurs, so quiet that only Neil can hear it, “You will never blend in, Neil.”

It’s a remark that could’ve made his cheeks, hands, eyes, and scalp sting, a  _ you will never evade their stares _ sort of fear, but Neil knows that isn’t what Andrew is getting at.

He allows the warm feeling in his stomach to spread and smiles.

“Please say bloody hell”, Nicky begs.


End file.
